


Those Devilish Doyles in: Metaphorical Liquor Cabinet Spelunking

by Culumacilinte



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Genderfuck, Happy Sex, Mild Kink, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 13:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/pseuds/Culumacilinte
Summary: 'What do we usually play?' '... Nightwatchman. I, the nightwatchman at the distillery, you the clever and… supple thief who shivers past the copper vats to steal an entire oak cask of Loch Lomont.'A humorous sampling of some of Frank and Sadie's favourite games.





	Those Devilish Doyles in: Metaphorical Liquor Cabinet Spelunking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misslucyjane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/gifts).



> The happiest of Yuletides to you, misslucyjane! I adore Frank and Sadie, and while I'd never written them before, I had a lot of fun finding their voices with this, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Greatest of thanks also to my darling Bluey for beta and cheerleading services throughout <3

**Menu**

An aperitif of Campari

Dirty martini with bleu-cheese stuffed olives

Stolen brandy straight from the bottle

Unexpected wine

Loch Lomont, straight up

A digestif of Fernet-Branca

Probably also some food at some point, maybe. It isn't really important. Booooo, food

~~~~~~~~~

**Prologue: An Aperitif of Campari**

‘Well, Sadie-love, what are you in the mood for this evening?’ Frank lounged back on the settee, expansive and loose-limbed in the best half-drunk fashion.

‘Oooh, Frank, is it my turn to choose?’

‘I _am_  the most generous of husbands.’

‘You are! And as a reward for being so, your Sadie shall go fetch you a drink!’

‘The most generous _and_  the best married, Sadistic.’

‘Mmmm, is _that_  how you’re feeling tonight, Frankensteen?’

‘Only if you are.’

Sadie waggled her eyebrows as she returned with a double for each of them, and laughed delightedly at the musical clink of their glasses. Frank caught her up under his arm as she flopped down next to him, brow furrowing in thought.

‘But ooooh, however am I to choose? Should we play newspaperman and maverick journalist? Or, ooooh, spoiled pet? No, liquor delivery boy! Or, no--! Nightwatchman! Or naughty Church boys? Or, no, gladiator!'

‘Take a deep breath, love’, Frank cautioned with gentle amusement, and Sadie subsided, pinking slightly in the cheeks. ‘And now take a deep drink.‘

Sadie did so, and then sighed, gazing at Frank adoringly. ‘It’s just there’s little I love more than playing with you, my Frank. It’s so dreadfully hard to pick sometimes. It’s like picking a favourite child! Or, worse--’ she paused and shuddered, ‘a favourite liquor.’

‘Well!' Frank exclaimed, 'in that case, shall we make it another game and think of it like liquors? Are you more in the mood for a Hemingway daiquiri, or a dirty martini, or one of those boozy milkshakes we discovered last summer?’

‘Frank, you are a genius! Yes, let us do just that!’

~~~~~~~~~

**First Course: Dirty Martini with Bleu Cheese Stuffed Olives**

When the big old desk had shown up as a lot at auction, Frank had not initially given it a second thought. What, after all, did either of them need with a piece of furniture with so many hard corners? The Doyles were people suited far better to cushions and rounded edges, for practical reasons as much as those of style and class. And a piece of furniture moreover intended for _work_? Hah! But Sadie's eyes had gone wide and her mouth had pursed itself into a little bud of shocked interest, and her paddle (chartreuse, that week) had shot up into the air.

Frank hadn't even had the chance to do more than cock a bemused eyebrow at her before Sadie had hissed, 'It is the very desk at which a gruff newspaper editor might sit and go about his editing work! Why, just imagine it all piled with papers just waiting to be dramatically _swept to the floor_ , and one of those little green lamps, and, oooh, _Frank_.'

'Ah', Frank had said at the time, understanding dawning in his mind and promptly wriggling down his spine into the rest of his body. 'Quite right you are, love.' Ordinarily, he might have joined her in a good-natured bidding war, just for fun, but this time, he chose to keep his own paddle strategically in his lap.

Now, the desk sat in one of the many rooms in their penthouse suite otherwise unused for anything other than liquor storage, for very specific date nights. And because Sadie in particular valued verisimilitude in fantasy, it had indeed been outfitted with naughtily manila envelopes and stacks of papers, along with one of those little green lamps, and a chunky glass ashtray. Neither of them smoked, but they agreed that a gruff newspaperman ought to have a chunky glass ashtray for his weary and cynical chain smoking.

Sadie thought Frank looked very fine in his shirtsleeves and suspenders, illuminated by that little green lamp, and even finer when he looked up in feigned irritation when she slapped down a newspaper onto the desk in front of him.

‘Now look here, Knickerhouse’, he started, but Sadie rode over him.

‘No, _you_  look here, Frank Doyle. I didn’t spend months on that case for you and your red pen to trim it down to a neat little side column. I do good work!’

‘I know you do good work’, Frank sighed, eyes twinkling up at Sadie with amusement. ‘You are our _most_  ace reporter, after all. You remind me of me at your age! But you’re a wild card.’

He sounded so very world-weary and beleaguered that for a moment, Sadie nearly vibrated out of her neat skirt suit with glee. She pushed forward, bracing her hands on the desk to lean over it. ‘I do good work _because_  I’m a wild card. That’s what journalism’s about; I go where no-one else can get to find out the truth, and I don’t appreciate you trying to shackle me into being a good, well-behaved girl. I’m not just here to pay the advertisers, you know. I don’t know about _you_.’

Frank’s eyebrows went up at her pointed use of the word _shackle_ , even though it wasn’t that sort of date night. It was still a poking little provocation, and his moustache twitched holding back a smirk.

‘Ideals are all well and good, Ms. Knickerhouse, but don’t go uncovering things unless you’re prepared to deal with the ~consequences. You’ll find yourself in over your head, and what good’ll a headliner story do you then?’

‘Look. Chief.’ Sadie made brazen eye contact. ‘I get it, you got burnt, but that’s your issue.’ She straightened up, smoothing down her skirt and tossing her head. ‘I think I’m just a little better than that.’

‘You’re a hotshot!’

‘And?’ She slapped her hands on the desk in emphasis, a solid little thump, and watched Frank’s nostrils flare with a sharply inhaled breath.

‘And you need to learn to be a little more by the book sometimes, that’s what.’

‘Well _maybe_ ’, Sadie flared up, ‘you need to be a little less by the book. Maybe even throw out the book entirely!’

On the final word, she lifted her voice to a shout, sweeping her firmly planted hands sideways and sending all those naughty papers and manila envelopes flying, swirling around them in a great dramatic whirlwind like a filing cabinet snowstorm. It was so perfectly dramatic she had to resist the urge to squeal.

'Now look here, that's weeks of paperwork!' Frank exclaimed crossly, springing up from his chair, and Sadie grinned breathlessly, her stockings _zhooshing_  together under her skirt as she shifted.

‘Oops’, she said sweetly, making eye contact and lifting her eyebrows.

Her heart jumped thrillingly as Frank stormed around the desk, kicking up papers as he went, and grabbed her in a way that would have just threatened at violence, if they both didn’t know where this was going next. It was still a rush, though, and Sadie did squeal as a moment later, Frank lifted her up onto the desk, his hands firm and capable on her waist.

‘Since you cleared it for me so thoughtfully’, he said sardonically, and tugged her impatiently into a kiss.

It was a hard kiss, but not a rough one; rather, it was meltingly passionate, like two people who didn’t ordinarily allow themselves romance and passion falling headfirst into it just this once, and Sadie made a breathy little noise into his mouth, kissing right back. Her skirt was too tight to properly spread her legs in, so it got rucked carelessly up when she hooked her legs around Frank, bunched up around her thighs just over the tops of her stockings. Her arms went around him too, one hand buried in his hair as they kissed, making soft, overwhelmed noises.

Frank’s hands chafed down over her back, her sides, over the little strip of skin bared between stocking and skirt, tender and hungry, and Sadie squirmed, trying to pull him closer. She gasped a faux-scandalised laugh when he pulled back to kiss over her jawline and down her neck, sucking at the tender skin. ‘Oooh, you editors with your ink-smudged fingers, you're sure to stain my suit!’

Of course Frank’s hands were, as ever, perfectly manicured and immaculately clean, but he smiled against her neck at the specificity of the fantasy and gladly went along with it. Imaginary-ink-stained fingers wriggled up to tease and tickle at her ribs, and Sadie shrieked, writhing and cackling helplessly, clutching at his shoulders.

He kept kissing all the while; soft, wet, ardent kisses all down the length of her neck, never hard enough to leave a mark, and eventually his tickling fingers stilled, hands sliding up to jerk open the top few buttons of her blouse. ‘Oooh!’ Sadie squeaked, peering down at her own heaving bosom, all pale and quivering as Frank made his way down her neck to lavish kisses there too.

‘I say’, she murmured breathlessly, somewhat distracted by appreciating her own attributes, ‘that… is rather a nice sight.’

‘Not exactly breaking news’, Frank mumbled, kissing between her breasts as he slid his hands past her ace reporter’s jacket to cup them through her blouse, massaging with his thumbs.

Sadie squirmed, feeling wetness trickling hotly between her legs at Frank’s sly attention to her nipples. ‘Maybe not’, she breathed, ‘but I imagine that’s an article you wouldn’t get your red pen all over.’

‘Then you don’t know me at all.’ He nuzzled in, kissing down her belly, sliding down to his knees and gently spreading her legs, rubbing his slightly stubbly cheek against her thigh and the slick fabric of her stocking. ‘I’d wanna keep that all to myself. How-- mm--’ he sucked a love bite onto her thigh, burrowing in not _quite_ under her skirt yet, ‘how exquisite Sadie Parker Knickerhouse looks in, mmm, particular circumstances. The quiver of your bosom is far too good for national news.’

Sadie felt a little faint at the tender vehemence in his voice, and she reached out to curl a hand in his hair for something to ground herself. It was a tenuous position, perched on the edge of the desk, but entirely worth it; her toes curled in her shoes as Frank finally ducked fully under her bunched-up skirt to get to work.

The heat of his mouth on the heat of her tender, sensitive flesh was almost too much, except that Frank was so very talented with his tongue. It was the kind of talent that one only honed through a great passion for the subject matter, and Frank had that in spades. He inhaled the scent of her, hands gently kneading at her thighs as he craned in to lick up the length of her, firm and hungry. Sadie sighed, her breath hitching, because then he wasn’t licking anymore at all; he was _kissing_ , wet and filthy and sloppy, his face pressed into her cunt with deliberate enthusiasm. Pulling back for a brief moment to draw in a breath, he returned to lick firmly up to her clit, toying with it with his tongue, and then-- oh god-- sucking. Sadie actually wailed at that, the sudden hook of pleasure spearing right up into her gut. She could feel Frank’s laughter, vibrating up through her folds, all those wonderful nerve endings crackling and sparking, and she tried to spread her legs wider, slipping on the polished wood of the desk.

‘Oh, _damn_ ’, she muttered, her eyes crossing as Frank licked and sucked and teased, clinging to the edge of the desk so as not to slip again. She managed to get one leg up and over his shoulder to hold herself in place, and then flopped back onto her elbows to wallow in the sensation of Frank’s mouth on her.

Frank, for his part, devoted himself to the task of savouring Sadie until she was writhing above him, twisting and crying out with every flicker of his tongue. He steadily drove her up and up, the pleasure building, curling in her stomach, her thighs, deep in her cunt, tingling maddeningly, and he could feel her purposefully clenching every muscle she could to bring it harder, faster. When she came, it was with a thrash, hips pressing back and fingers flexing in Frank’s hair, curling up helplessly for a moment before flopping back, breathing hard.

‘Oh, Frank!’ Sadie gasped, fingernails digging in where she was clutching at the desk, breathing hard as she came down from the heights of her orgasm, the full-body tingles gradually receding. Frank’s hand was firm on her thigh, and she smiled dizzily at the sight of him once she’d pushed herself upright; his moustache was quite ruined, sticky and wet and disordered, and his curls had started to go to frizz where she’d been clutching at them, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes dark and fond. Sadie felt a little clutch at her heart, falling out of the fantasy and into just regular old them in an instant.

‘Oh, you _are_  marvellous; come here and let me take care of you, you patient man.' She helped tug him up off the floor, pulling him into a kiss, rather enjoyably filthy for the taste of her cunt still all over his mouth. She considered it something of a point of pride that she actually tasted boozy. She drew fingertips through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp. ‘You do indulge me so wonderfully, Frank-darling.’

‘Well, you know how I feel about indulgence.’ His voice wheezed a little when Sadie wriggled one of her clever hands into his slacks, pushing down both trousers and underwear so she could get at his cock, stroking with easy familiarity.

Sadie grinned down at him, jerking him firm and fond. ‘And I do love indulging with you, darling. And off you. Oooh, do we still have that tequila? I want Frank tequila shots later!’

Frank laughed through his huffs of breath, sagging against Sadie as she stroked and twisted and tugged until he was groaning, jerking and coming into the kerchief she had suddenly at the ready. He chuckled at that, nuzzling in to press another kiss under her ear.

They stayed like that for some moments, just wrapped up in each other while Frank’s breathing evened out and Sadie grinned down at him, feeling very satisfied indeed.

‘This desk’, Frank pronounced after a moment, ‘is one of the best purchases we have ever made at auction. And you know I do not say that lightly, Sadie.’

Sadie laughed. ‘Just imagine what a boring life it would have had if we hadn’t snapped it up! People using it for _actual work_? Pah! Horrible.’

'This is indeed a far better fate!' Frank stepped out of his trousers; despite Sadie's quick thinking work with the handkerchief, he had no desire to sully them unnecessarily. He'd slip into a dressing gown or a pair of pyjama bottoms later, but first-- 'But first! Would you like a martini, love?'

'Always, darling. Clink!'

~~~~~~~~~

**Second Course: Stolen Brandy Straight from the Bottle**

Both Frank and Sadie agreed that Sadie made a surprisingly attractive man. Or boy, really, given the scene. Despite being the most gorgeous of women, and possessed of feminine charms the equal of any succubus, in the right clothes, she became a rakish dandy, just the kind of older boy whom a repressed young Catholic was likely to find both alluring and alarming. The kind of boy a teenaged Frank Doyle in particular would have halfway wanted to be, even as the other half of him had disturbing dreams about him.

The first time they'd played this game, Sadie had attempted to make her Wicked Older Boy character a lousy Lower East Side type, but her attempt at the accent had been so ludicrous that it had sent them both into paroxysms of laughter. Now that they've smoothed off the rough edges, he was a Wildean aesthete sort, a louche, drawling, English public school kid absolutely calculated to make teenage Frank feel unpolished and stupid. It was perfect.

Sadie preened in the mirror, adjusting the flat cap over her hair, gathered up under it in braids, and tugging at her lapels and adjusting the hang of her suit. ‘You know there’s no-one other than you I’d wear sleeves for, darling.’

Frank grinned over at her from where he was leaning against the doorjamb and watching appreciatively. ‘Just as well, Sadie-love; I don’t think I could stand it if anyone else knew what a dashing Eton boy you make. The jealousy would be too much to take.’

‘You’re _adorable_  when you’re jealous, Frank.’

‘Not as adorable as you.’

‘I thought I was dashing!’ she protested, pouting at Frank's reflection until he chuckled.

'And who said you can't be both?'

'Hmmm', Sadie hummed, satisfied with his response. Without turning away from her reflection, she lifted a hand to flick elegant fingers towards the door. 'Now shoo; you get out where you belong and let me finish getting ready.'

That was part of the game too, making Frank wait. Even though he knew it was coming, he didn't know _when_ ; just another ball in Sadie's proverbial court. With Frank gone, she finished doing up cufflinks and tying her tie, making sure everything was perfect. The crowning glory of the whole thing, neatly tucked away under perfectly-pressed trousers, was a gift from a sex demon friend of theirs, a facsimile of a cock that acted just like the real thing. Right now it was the barest hint of a soft bulge under expensive wool, and Sadie bared her teeth at her own reflection, feeling a little twinge of anticipatory arousal.

Out in the sitting room, Frank was more dishevelled than was his wont these days, dressed like the angry teenager who'd spent half his time fighting monsters, shoulders hunched in a way also very unlike his customarily perfect carriage.

'Posture, Doyle', she drawled from across the room, and Frank startled around. 'You look like a yokel.'

'Who--? Oh, Parker, it's just you.' If it were anyone other than Sadie, Frank might have been embarrassed at the little flush of arousal already creeping under his undone collar from just that, but as it was Sadie, he didn't waste the energy on embarrassment.

' _Just_  me? I'm wounded.'

Frank's eyes jumped jerkily from her perfectly polished brogues to the soft bulge of her false cock to her natty blazer and waistcoat, and he swallowed before looking nervously away, scratching at the back of his neck. He did stand up straighter, and Sadie lifted a single perfect eyebrow, sidling up behind him to stroke fingertips over his shoulder.

'We are friends, aren't we? Aren't you pleased to see me?'

Frank coughed; his cock twitched. 'Course we are, sport. Chums, that's us, just absolutely the greatest of, um, chums.'

Sadie chuckled, the fingertips on Frank's shoulder firming into a full-palmed grip, and she shifted forward, her hips nudging against his bottom. 'You're a card, Doyle; do I make you nervous? You really mustn't be nervous. Why, I saw you take out that werewolf the other week, you were positively _fearsome_ , whyever would you be nervous of me?'

Frank cleared his throat again, and Sadie smiled sharply, her other hand sneaking down to find his hip and pull him back against her. Both of them could feel his full-body startle, and they exhaled in unison, Sadie's breath smug, and Frank's shaky with put-on nerves and not at all put-on arousal.

'Fearsome? Was I?'

'Mmhmm, a positive brute. You American boys, you're so _rough_.'

'Oh! Well.' Frank actually managed to manufacture an adolescent squeak to his voice, and had to resist the urge to smile smugly. Sadie did not resist, her teeth scant millimetres from Frank's neck. 'I suppose I am a bit-- uhm, rough. But, you know, I've been hunting monsters for a while, so--'

'I was admiring it', Sadie drawled, 'how rough and strong you were. Your eyes all... wild. Like uncivilised poetry. Something... primal. It would take a stronger man than I not to appreciate that.'

Her false cock was starting to swell against Frank's bottom and he'd started to prickle with sweat, his own cock following suit. He felt a little dizzy and a lot wildly in love, sagging back into Sadie's insinuating embrace. It wasn't every woman who'd throw herself into playing these kinds of games with her very lucky husband.

'Now-- now look here, Parker', he stuttered, pulling away and rubbing his palms on his thighs. 'You're a good fellow, and we're-- friends, I'm sure, but it wouldn't be, you know, _right_. If Father Lancaster--'

'Oh, don't let's bring _Father Lancaster_ into it, ugh, come now, Doyle. _Frank_.' Sadie pressed back into his space, pinning him to the wall with a hand next to his head, and Frank swallowed hard, his eyes going wide and dark. Sadie huffed a little laugh, pressing her hips right up against Frank's to feel his burgeoning erection, her own false cock hardening and twitching, pressed against the crease of his thigh. Frank shut his eyes, the muscle in his jaw clenching.

'He's a dreadful bore. And as far as _right_ ', she continued, feeling breathless and thrilled, but making her voice as measured and scornful as she could, 'you don't really buy into all this religious nonsense, do you? You really think there's some omnipotent being up there who gives a solitary damn what you do with your prick?'

She ground her hips sudden and fierce against him, and Frank groaned, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he was struggling terribly not to touch her, either to shove her away or pull her closer.

'When', he gasped, 'when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin.'

Sadie actually laughed in startled delight, a laugh full of surprise and affection and entirely out of character; Frank had never actually brought _Bible verses_  into this particular scenario before. She had to fight the urge to just smooch him all over his face, biting back her laughter into something cooler and more mocking. She continued rocking her hips against Frank's, keeping him pinned to the wall and just frotting against him, her false cock now fully hard, all fully dressed and sordid.

'Oh, _come_  now, Doyle', she murmured, 'you really think your murderous monster-hunting rages haven't already ~brought forth sin? No joy there, old thing.'

'That isn't--'

'The same?' She cut him off, bringing her other hand up to trace over his gasping mouth. 'No, heaven forfend you should _enjoy_  yourself. You deserve a little fun, come on now.'

Sadie shifted back just enough to reach between them and cup Frank through his trousers. She could feel his cock throbbing even through the fabric, the arresting heat of it, and she set to rubbing him hard and dirty, watching him avidly.

'Oh, _fuck_ ', Frank gritted out from between his teeth, his head lolling back, hands splayed out to grip the wall behind him.

'Mmhmm', Sadie hummed, rubbing and massaging, thumbing at the head of his cock through the fabric. 'Maybe next time I'll have you suck me off; you've got such a pretty pair of cocksucking lips. Maybe take you up to the sanctuary behind the altar and have you suck my prick right then and there.' Her voice was going increasingly rough and breathless, her accent slipping a little around the edges as she could feel Frank getting closer to the edge. 'You'd love that, wouldn't you, Doyle? Sucking my cock until I just-- hmm- _blaspheme_  all over the place.'

And that was that, Frank's whole body jerked and locked up, gutpunched with the overwhelming heat of orgasm, the delicious helpless humiliation of coming in his pants like that. Sadie kept rubbing until Frank was a twitching, gasping mess, shaking his head deliriously. 'S too much, Sade, oh, god...'

'Oh! Of course, darling,' she exclaimed, and stilled the motion of her hand immediately, instead merely cupping Frank, like an obscene cousin to a comforting hug.

'Thank you', he breathed roughly, lolling against the wall and breathing hard, eyes closed and forehead sweaty, and Sadie beamed at him, finally giving into her urge to lean in and give him a kiss.

Frank smiled with his eyes shut, panting roughly. He was still clinging to the wall with one hand, but he had just enough muscle control to reach out with the other arm and loosely loop it around Sadie as she peppered his face with affectionate little kisses. She hadn’t come herself; maybe she would later, once Frank had recovered, but maybe not at all tonight, and honestly, Sadie didn’t care. She was well satisfied as it was.

~~~~~~~~~

**Off-menu: Unexpected Wine**

'Franklin Zappa Loyd Wright Doyle, you are _not_  bringing the Mothman into our bedroom!'

It was her stern voice, the one she used when addressing monsters as if they were misbehaving dogs, which admittedly had been part of the appeal of the whole Mothman notion in the privacy of Frank's head. He stalled, clearing his throat, and reached for the nearest half-full glass. Sadie continued.

'Nor the yeti, nor sasquatch, nor a wampus cat, nor the Jersey Devil, nor _any_ classic American cryptid you might choose to mention.'

The glass contained a disappointing ratio of melted ice to vodka, but Frank manfully downed it anyway, and coughed. 'Right you are, dear. It won't come up again.'

And it didn't.

~~~~~~~~~

**Third Course: Loch Lomont, Straight Up**

The dimmed lights in the apartment really were very effective at setting the mood. Of course, Sadie was good at setting the mood, too; the memories of her alternate life as an art thief had proved surprisingly useful in getting into the mindset of a liquor-cat-burgler. So into the mood was she, as she snuck past imaginary distilling vats, that Sadie actually gasped when Frank snuck up behind her and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her back against him.

'Got you!' he hissed, and Sadie scowled, baring her teeth and wriggling against his grasp.

'You've got nothing.'

'I think you'll find I've got one thing; I've got a dame. Now suppose you tell me how you got past our alarms.'

'Suppose I don't.'

'Suppose I ask nicely.'

'Suppose I don't give a damn about nice.'

'Suppose I ask _nastily_ , then.'

Frank's moustache tickled her ear, his breath hot on her neck, sending thrilling sparks melting down her spine, and Sadie shuddered. Because she _was_ , after all, being a cat burglar, she was wearing a catsuit, and because she was not the kind of cat burglar who would suffer panty-lines to ruin a good look, she was not wearing any underwear under it. It all felt rather exquisitely naughty. Her nipples tingled, and she tugged at her wrist again just to make Frank tighten his grip.

'I don't think you've got enough nasty in you', she cooed, and Frank huffed a laugh in her ear, pulling her back to grind against her bottom.

'You wanna see how nasty I can be?'

'Wouldn't that be just like a dame.'

'Dames is trouble.'

'Are you putting words in my mouth?'

'I might be. I'd rather put something else there.'

And now it was Sadie's turn to laugh, breathy and aroused. She arched her hips back against him, so the two of them were just rocking back and forth in the dark of the imaginary distillery.

'Maybe I'd rather you put that something somewhere else.'

Frank's other hand finally got involved, and Sadie groaned as he roughly cupped her breast, her whole body flushing hot. She wasn't wearing a bra either, because she respected an outfit, and her cunt dissolved into liquid heat when Frank's elegant fingers went straight to twisting at her nipple.

'I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, doll', he husked against her ear.

'And what _position_  would that be?'

Sadie finally yanked herself free of Frank's grip on her, grinning madly as she backed up. Frank knew a cue when he saw it, and he took it now, striding forward after Sadie and reaching forward to take a rough grip on her shoulder, shoving her to the floor and following soon after, swinging a leg over her hips. He pulled the nightstick from his belt, pressing it to Sadie's throat and enjoying the way she stretched her chin up and away from it, teeth still slightly bared. They were both breathing hard, eyes glittering in the darkness.

'I think you know.'

'What if I want you to tell me?'

'What if I'd rather show you?' He gave a little thrust, hips against hips, rocking her back on the floor, and Sadie laughed breathlessly, neck still craned away from the nightstick.

'They say that showing is the best way to learn.'

'And are you a good learner?'

'I got all A's in school.'

'Written exams or oral?'

Her eyes flicked down to the nightstick, and she licked her lips in unsubtle suggestion, bucking up against the throbbing heat of his erection. It made her feel restless and wild, being pinned like this. Sadie didn't have the fighting past Frank did, but when they played games like this, she fancied she could taste blood and adrenaline in her mouth, the breathless thrill of grappling together, the weight of Frank on top of her. 'Howbout you take a third option?'

She growled, twisting under Frank to try and throw him off, and while Frank probably could have kept her pinned in an actual fight, this wasn't an actual fight, and it was more fun to let her roll them over, briefly holding him down with her strong thighs. The nightstick went flying, clattering against some unseen piece of furniture in the dark

'You gimme what I want', she panted, grinding against his thigh and going a little cross-eyed, 'And I'll cut you in on the goods.'

'You think I'm that easy?'

'I think one of us is.'

'I think you're mixing us up.'

Frank surged up, wrestling Sadie onto her back, the two of them growling, breath hissing through their teeth, and Sadie's growling melted into a moan when Frank discovered the other reason she wasn't wearing knickers: an ouvert catsuit required none. She was wet and throbbing, and his thick fingers slid easily between her labia to rub firmly at her clitoris; Sadie _sighed_ , hips shifting up into the touch.

'Oh, _Frank_.'

'Dames', Frank scoffed, even as he shifted on the spot, the tight fabric trapping his erection beginning to be unbearable. 'Dames! All the same; touch 'em the right way and they melt.'

Sadie's eyes flashed at that, and she levered herself up on her elbows to make some rejoinder, but Frank slid two fingers roughly right into her and she cried out, twisting and falling back. 'I don't melt for just anyone', she breathed. 'I hope you're worth it. You gonna get around to it or you just gonna tease me all night?'

'Oh, I'm worth it.' Frank hauled her up just to turn her around and shove her back down, face down and bottom up, giving her a little smack to make her laugh breathlessly as he fumbled with his trousers.

Sadie groped out in the dark for a cushion so that she wouldn't get carpetburn on her face (it had happened once, and Frank had been like a whipped puppy for weeks afterwards), knees spread wide and braced, feeling herself throb and clench in anticipation. There was the clink of Frank's belt, the shift of air over her exposed, overheated skin, and then his fingers hard on her hip the only warning she got before he thrust roughly into her, hard and thick and so wonderfully _filling_ her.

She moaned. Frank moaned too, and then Sadie was laughing helplessly as he recovered himself and set to fucking her hard. They were both so worked up by this point that it was hard to keep up the noir banter, reduced to undignified noises. Frank was all grunting and gasping and greedy hands pulling Sadie back into him, the obscene smack of his balls against her skin; Sadie, for her part, was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t stop laughing even through the cries and moans Frank was punching out of her with every powerful thrust.

It didn’t take long. Sadie snuck a hand underneath herself to frantically rub herself off as Frank fucked her, words half-buried in the cushion, ‘Oh, Frank, yes, yes, oh, _harder_ \--! Just-- so nearly-- _ah_!’

They hadn’t thought to put down a towel, and even if they had, the odds of them finding it in the dark once they’d got themselves all worked up probably would not have been excellent, but Sadie hazily thought, as she finally toppled gasping over the edge into her orgasm, that possibly they should have. Half a heartbeat later, she was _yowling_ and coming in a messy gush all over her hand, spraying to splatter her belly and thighs and undoubtedly soaking the carpet along with her catsuit. She could feel herself clenching all around Frank as she came, and moments later he was following suit, hips stuttering and jacking into her, fucking himself through his orgasm.

When he finally slumped forward, breathing hard, Sadie was laughing helplessly, rough around the edges from the noises she’d been making, but too overwhelmed by the force of her orgasm to do anything else. And, well, what could Frank do but laugh too? He chuckled, pressing a kiss between her shoulderblades.

‘Well, has your noir motor been sufficiently revved, Sadistic?’

Sadie just hummed, smiling into the cushion. After years of marriage, Frank was not beholden to words to follow Sadie’s meaning, so he understood her perfectly well.

~~~~~~~~~

**A Digestif of Fernet-Branca**

'Oooh, Frank!' Sadie flopped back on the bed, naked down to her exquisitely adorable little toes and sweaty all over.

'Now that', Frank gasped, 'is a sentiment I will gladly toast to. Where's the post-coital liquor stash?'

'I'm not sure I can feel my fingers, darling', Sadie admitted. Sprawled out as she was, her perfectly alabaster skin stretched into a soft concavity in the hollow of her ribcage, and Frank became briefly distracted even from the desire for a drink by the way he could see the flutter of her heartbeat under the delicate skin. After an enraptured moment, he shook his head.

'Think of the liquor!'

Sadie giggled, flopping bonelessly onto her side and wiggling over to the side of the bed, rather charmingly like a child pretending to be a caterpillar. Frank sighed, and performed a little mental _clink!_ in anticipation of being able to actually toast Sadie properly. She was hanging over the edge of the bed now, her enticingly soft and jiggly bottom on full display, and he couldn't resist reaching over to give it a little smack. Sadie squealed.

'Francis Daiquiri Doyle! Do you want me to find these drinks or do you not?' She levered herself up enough to give him a wry look, only somewhat marred by the way her face was halfway hidden by her mass of mussed and undone hair. 'You know I'm up for a round two, but I'd like a round or two myself first, haha!'

'Well said, Sadie!' Frank beamed at her. 'Now, have you found it?'

'I have!' Her voice came half-muffled as she was once again hanging over the edge of the bed. Frank helpfully took a grip of her ankles to give her a bit of leverage as she groped about under the bed, making thoughtful little growls as she pulled out the portable liquor chest they kept there.

'Hah! Got it!' she shouted in triumph, finally surfacing with the chest in hand, hauling it up onto the bed and plonking it down between them. The contents tinkled and clinked enticingly. Moments later, with the speed of truly practised skill, Sadie had mixed them both a drink, and she laughed a bell-like laugh to match the *clink* of their glasses as they toasted each other.

'Mmmm', she hummed, flopping back onto the bed with her empty glass and wriggling pleasurably, smiling over at Frank. 'Does it suit the mood, darling?'

Frank reached out to span her smooth thigh with his smooth hand, giving it a fond jiggle to make Sadie laugh again, squirming and reaching for the bottle to try and pour herself another whilst still lying on her back. 'If the mood is with you, Sadie, anything suits.'

'Fraaaaaank, you dreadful romantic.'

Frank toasted her again. 'The _most_  dreadful. Now, shall we go through our liquor cabinet while we recover and decide what we fancy for a second round?'

Sadie beamed up at him. She was naked and perfect, creamy pale skin and sharp collarbones, wild dark hair and eyes the envy of does and fawns, and Frank, looking down at her, was naked and perfect too, smooth elegant hands and daringly hairy forearms, softly rounded belly and the occasional rakish scar on his broad shoulders, moustache smushed to one side. They were naked and perfect and drunk and together, and they had a whole liquor cabinet to go through.

~~~~~~~~~


End file.
